When Ian opened his eyes.
A strange scent, a mixture of fishiness and rosemary, immediately filled his nostrils.
He found himself sitting at a long table carved with Norse runes. The tabletop had several marks that looked suspiciously like they were made by an axe, and there was a lot of sticky, old residue on them.
The whale-oil lamp hanging from the ceiling swung gently with a breeze from an unknown source, casting mottled shadows on the oak floor and illuminating the pot-bellied man who seemed to be Thor, the God of Thunder.
The time in this Marvel universe was actually noon, but there was hardly any sunlight visible in the restaurant. At first, Ian thought he had accidentally stumbled into a multi-level marketing scheme.
"A new guest! Seriously, won't you try today's special?" The pot-bellied man enthusiastically invited again, his voice as deep as a muffled thunderclap exploding inside an iron barrel.
"I'm currently on a diet, can't eat a bite."
Ian looked at the countdown timer at the bottom of his vision. There were still about ten hours left. Presumably, he would soon unlock the new class, [Entropy Extinction Lord], after this Marvel journey.
He already felt like he was starving into a geoduck clam.
"I'll come back when I'm off the diet."
Ian could smell the food being cooked in the air, and it smelled pretty good. The reason he realized the man in front of him was Thor, the God of Thunder, was also because of his cooking.
The bearded strong man was using iron tongs to flip something. The jumping blue electric arcs on the tongs were obvious, and a hint of garlic wafted from Mjolnir, which was hanging nearby.
Oh.
There was also a scent of Sichuan peppercorns and rosemary on the hammer, showing that it was still very important in this kitchen, and its user didn't even bother to wash it.
"You're Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder of Asgard, right?"
Ian made a final confirmation.
"Hahaha! That's right, it's me." The strong man's laughter made the silver utensils in the cabinet rattle. "Looks like spending 500 gold coins to be on the Food Hound show really made a name for me!"
His identity was confirmed.
Ian once again felt the shock brought by the new Marvel universe.
He had imagined Thor might be a blacksmith, a drunk, or even an e-sports player, but what was this shabby chef, wielding a spatula and covered in sauce stains on his apron?
"Flash Octopus Baked Set. I truly recommend you try it."
Thor confidently shook the cast-iron pot in his hand, still relentlessly promoting the dish. The sauce in the pot bubbled and popped, splashing onto his soy-sauce-colored chef's apron.
It looked exactly like a Thunder Magic King attempting to poison all living beings.
"My spices are all air-freighted from Asgard, pure imported goods, and they are both good quality and cheap." Thor's sales pitch even utilized a psychological technique similar to "the grass is always greener on the other side."
He probably hadn't realized one issue.
While the ingredients at his shop might be excellent, the environment was terribly poor. No diner could possibly tolerate it, so the restaurant's location was absolutely wrong.
"No need, thank you."
Ian had just stood up.
He saw Thor, the God of Thunder, leap out of the open kitchen, giving off a menacing vibe as if he would rob him if the deal didn't close. Of course, the burly man was only trying to retain Ian, his only customer.
"You must think my ingredients aren't fresh. Come on, let me show you. I guarantee you'll understand how conscientious I am. That giant octopus was fighting the Kraken three hours ago."
Thor, the God of Thunder, tried to abduct a child. His strength was genuinely immense. Even with Ian's current physique, he seemed unable to break free from the future All-Father of Asgard.
"The ingredients are alive right up to the moment you eat them," Thor enthusiastically tugged at Ian's arm, pushing aside a beast-hide curtain, and brought Ian to the immensely spacious backyard. The rich family's simple-minded son was truly wealthy, able to be so lavish in a high-priced area of New York, operating as if running a farmhouse resort in the countryside.
In the middle of the spacious open-air courtyard.
There was a "swimming pool" comparable to a small lake. Ice blocks and seasoning jars were piled up next to the super-sized pool, and an octopus larger than a semi-truck lay inside, barely alive.
It was certainly huge.
But claiming it could fight the Kraken likely involved some false advertising.
"Look at this huge sucker! Perfect for teppanyaki!" Thor was unaware of Ian's internal critique. He excitedly pointed at the wheel-sized circular depressions on the octopus's tentacles and began his introduction.
"And the meat at the end of this arm is also exceptionally delicious. Which part would you like to eat? I can cut a piece for you to sample first. Please, patronize my restaurant." Thor leaned close to the giant octopus, preparing to cut Ian some octopus sashimi, which was certainly over-standard with internal parasites—a hundred times longer than any normal one.
"Splash!"
The seemingly dying giant octopus suddenly burst into action. A tentacle lashed out like lightning, wrapping directly around Thor's neck and dragging him into the water!
This was truly dishonorable, launching a sneak attack.
"Ugh!!"
Thor immediately let out a terrified shriek. He sank into the water, gulping down several mouthfuls. Although he struggled fiercely, his struggle looked completely chaotic.
He didn't seem like the mighty God of Thunder of Asgard at all.
"Oh no! It's kissing me!" Thor's hands flailed above the pool, and his feet continuously kicked below the surface, but he didn't look very happy.
The dignified Prince of Asgard.
Struggled like a drowning tree frog.
Amidst the gurgling bubbles.
He cried out.
"It's chewing my ear!"
Thor, constantly submerging and resurfacing, looked like he was about to burst into tears.
"It might just want to spread to you the Gospel of R'lyeh that it believes in. That's genuine nasty stuff. I'm not eating it, but you are."
Ian sighed softly.
He casually wiped a splash of seawater from his face.
"Save me!"
Thor had been dragged to the center of the pool.
His voice was fragmented.
"Get my hammer!"
The world might have changed, but he was still the God of the Hammer. Ian looked back, Mjolnir was still hanging by the kitchen door, showing no sign of rushing to save its master.
Ian understood this completely. If he were Mjolnir, hammering rosemary, pepper, and garlic every day, he would definitely pretend not to see it when Thor was in danger.
"You're a hammer, it's normal not to have eyes." Ian found a great excuse for Mjolnir. However, he ultimately helped Thor retrieve Mjolnir.
It wasn't heavy.
Nor did it appear to have Odin's "Unworthy" spell cast upon it.
"Here."
Ian tossed Mjolnir directly into the pool, not offering any further help. He still had unresolved confusion about the combat power of the heroes in this new Marvel universe.
In any case, Thor definitely wouldn't drown.
However.
As the hammer traced a perfect parabola.
Thor broke free from the tentacle at the critical moment, diving and catching the weapon. Instantly, the sky changed color, and bolts of thunder descended from the heavens—then the electricity all struck him. His golden hair instantly turned into a fashionable explosion hairstyle, and the black smoke he exhaled formed a small thundercloud in the air.
He genuinely looked like he almost electrocuted himself.
"Sizzle, sizzle!"
The air was filled with the aroma of roasted squid and roasted Thor.
Due to the electric roasting.
It lacked the unique fragrance of charcoal grilling.
"Help..."
Thor floated on the water's surface.
Rolling his eyes like an electrocuted carp. This was truly confusing. Although his own body could generate electricity, after summoning a bolt of lightning from the sky, he rolled his eyes before the giant octopus did.
Of course.
The giant octopus's health bar was clearly not as thick as Thor's.
The power of the Heavenly Thunder was indeed terrifying.
The entire pool was constantly flickering with dense electric arcs.
Amidst the continuous surge of electric arcs, the giant octopus was thoroughly carbonized. Thor, the God of Thunder, was still alive, but his condition was not good. Smoke was rising from his body, and he kept convulsing in the pool.
"Damn it, I didn't bring a camera. Otherwise, I could definitely let Mom know that this guy is the truly abstract one." Ian saw Thor about to sink to the bottom.
He finally rushed into the pool and pulled Thor out.
[Berserker Experience +3]
The residual electric power could still hurt Ian's body. This was something Ian had discovered after snapping his fingers last time. He was no longer the invincible body he once was in this world.
Just like a wage earner who has lost his value.
And whose salary and benefits have been severely cut by the company. However, the good news was that OAA was perhaps a capitalist, not an abolitionist, so Ian received a consolation prize of sorts.
[Wielder of Destiny]
Although there was no effect description, it had silently appeared in Ian's status bar after he entered the Marvel universe this time.
Better than nothing, he supposed.
"Hoo, hoo, hoo."
After being rescued by Ian, Thor lay flat on the ground, constantly spitting out bubbles. His hair was fried, but his bulging beer belly was the real heavyweight.
"Time to lose some weight."
Ian offered good advice.
But it only resulted in Thor spitting a jet of water at his face.
His belly did shrink a little bit.
But this behavior was clearly very impolite.
"Squish!"
Ian stomped heavily on Thor's belly. A large stream of water and several roasted fish immediately spurted from Thor's mouth, clearly indicating that more than one giant octopus had been electrocuted in the pool.
"Thank you, strange Sun God of the universe."
Thor, the God of Thunder, was reborn and had also learned some manners. He could, of course, perceive the power brewing in Ian's eyes, which was why he had clung to Ian and refused to let him leave.
A true chef.
Has the ambition to make his restaurant famous throughout the universe.
"Don't call me the Sun God."
Ian shook the moisture from his hands.
"I'm afraid you'll pass on the bad luck to me."
He was genuinely astonished by Thor's performance.
"Uh, I can't help it," Thor scratched his head with an embarrassed smile, but only scraped off a handful of burnt hair. "I'm too rusty with the use of my divine power!"
"If I used my lightning power more often, it definitely wouldn't be like this!" He brandished Mjolnir self-righteously. "It's all because I lacked opportunities to practice when I was young!"
Judging by the way Thor swung the hammer, he was perhaps an interdimensional successor of the [Unpredictable Hammer Technique], which was completely different from the Asgardian God of War Ian had imagined.
"Opening a restaurant on Earth doesn't sound like a chance for practice," Ian's eye-rolling was unpracticed. His look, which showed only the whites of his eyes, directly scared Thor back several steps.
"The Nine Realms have been at peace for too long. People live peacefully. Where would I find a chance to show off?" Thor steadied himself and spoke with a sighing tone. "As the All-Father, my father is idle every day, let alone a Prince like me. I only came to Earth because I wanted to find something to do."
"Isn't this diligent enough?"
Thor looked like a thousands-of-years-old big fatty yearning for praise.
"It is."
Ian suddenly understood.
This was a second-generation Divine Scion unwilling to settle down!
"How's the restaurant business?" Ian asked, knowing the answer. He looked around and noticed the "Best New Restaurant" plaque in the corner, covered in dust, dated 1997.
This plaque probably cost a lot of Asgardian gold coins.
"It's alright. After all, I've only been open for sixteen years. I'm still in the beginner's phase!" Thor puffed out his chest proudly. The red stains, which were likely ketchup, on his apron were particularly noticeable.
The words [Son of Odin Restaurant] were embroidered on it.
And a line of smaller text below.
[Odin Witnessed, Never Skimping on the Scale.]
Ian almost forgot that this was also someone who liked to boast about his father. However, Ian no longer liked to boast about his father, unless his own father could somehow live up to his potential and bring glory to the family.
"Keep up the good work."
Ian encouraged Thor.
"Yes, yes, I'm sure I'll do well in the future. I've loved cooking since I was little, and I've spent a lot of money on marketing recently. Both New York Foodie and American Kitchen took my money." Thor was greatly inspired. The way he counted on his fingers matched Ian's stereotype of a rich second-generation entrepreneur.
"The future will definitely be better!" The God of Thunder concluded with a hopeful declaration. Sunlight shone through his burnt explosion hair, illuminating a few pieces of charcoaled fish scale within his hair.
"Mhm, the future will be better."
Ian was very optimistic about Thor. Just wait for three years, no, perhaps thirteen years, when the American small-success philosophy rises, then Thor would definitely shine on the stage. An alien with infinite potential gives up his noble Prince status and chooses to be a restaurant chef in New York.
What was this called?
This was the correct benchmark!
He could totally be used as a propaganda benchmark for the American success philosophy.
"Are you still the Crown Prince?" Ian prepared to assess Thor's potential for the success philosophy. While wiping his hands, he casually asked Odin's simple-minded son.
Thor was not sufficiently wary of strangers.
"Of course! I am my father's only son! The ultimate heir to Asgard!" Thor straightened his chest, his tone carrying a touch of pride.
His words were full of information.
Loki was apparently not a Prince in Asgard.
"Is it because the concept of the God of Stories is gone, so Loki's origin story naturally disappeared, or is it simply Tony Stark once again mixing in his own ideas in the new Marvel universe?" Ian still had many unknowns and confusions about this world. While he was trying to convince his super-brain to turn a few more times.
"Would you like to be my advisor? When I ascend the throne, as my lifesaver, I will make you my Grand National Master. But before that, you'll need to accompany me in the kitchen to clean fish for a few thousand years." Thor suddenly extended an olive branch to Ian. His tone was sincere, and he didn't seem to be trying to run a scam or a pyramid scheme.
However.
"..."
Ian felt that Thor's sincerity was more ruthless than any scam or pyramid scheme. Even killing fish for ten years at a large supermarket makes one emotionless. He dared not imagine what he would become after cleaning fish for a few thousand years.
"How about it?"
Thor still looked at Ian with expectant eyes.
"As the Crown Prince of Asgard, shouldn't you be doing what a Crown Prince should do instead of hiding on Earth as a pathetic chef?" Ian felt he needed to correct Thor's incorrect thinking.
"Huh?"
Thor blinked his blue eyes. Electric-fried debris still hung from his eyelashes.
"What should the Crown Prince do?"
He looked genuinely eager to learn.
To this.
Ian certainly had something to say. Tony Stark only asked Ian to shape the Marvel universe Ian wanted, not to restore the old version of Marvel before the apocalypse.
"I'm familiar with this. History is a mirror for the duties of a Crown Prince. Louis XIV's son in France threw parties at the Palace of Versailles all day long, dancing from dusk till dawn."
"The Crown Prince of King Charles II of England supposedly changed three mistresses a day, and he could write poetry while drinking. The son of the Pharaoh in ancient Egypt spent all his time in the palace engaging in artistic creation and even built himself a statue larger than a pyramid—you must learn all of this. It's much easier than learning a foreign language."
Ian spoke earnestly.
Thor, the God of Thunder, listened with wide eyes.
"The Crown Prince can do that?"
He looked like Ian had completely shattered his worldview.
"Yes, this is all preparation for your ascension to the throne. Only by developing these habits as Crown Prince can you truly become a qualified monarch after you ascend."
Over the next ten minutes.
Thor experienced a mental shock more profound than Ragnarok.
Ian spoke eloquently, from King Zhou of Shang's Wine Pool and Meat Forest to Louis XVI's locksmith workshop, from the Roman Emperor's horse racing costume fetish to Emperor Wu Zong of Ming's leopard room entrepreneurship history.
When Ian spoke passionately about using the Bifrost as a transportation channel to gather Princesses from all over the universe and exiling all disloyal people to grow lychees on Pluto.
"Hiss."
The God of Thunder gasped.
Mjolnir "clanged" to the ground.
"Wouldn't that be a little inappropriate?"
Thor's pupils kept trembling.
"What's inappropriate about it?"
Ian looked at him deeply. The reason he said all this was, of course, not because he had nothing better to do. He was testing whether Thor was still the Thor he knew. Tony Stark entrusted Ian with shaping this new world, so Ian naturally had to pay attention to it and test Thor's kingly heart.
"Thor Odinson, you must understand a principle: your father conquered such a great empire. If you don't squander some of it, wouldn't you be letting down his diligent governance?"
Ian's counter-question.
Made Thor feel like he had been struck by lightning again.
"Is there such a saying?"
He looked half-understanding and completely bewildered.
"Of course. Think about it carefully. If you don't squander some of it, how will you create an opportunity for your children to practice diligent governance?" Ian asked a resounding question that truly was deafening this time. "Are you going to let your future children end up like you, selling local specialties on Earth because they have nothing to do?"
He had struck a chord in Thor's heart.
That's right.
It was because the great All-Father governed the country too well that he lost the opportunity to strive. How could he bear to let his descendants waste their potential like he did?
"Oh my God, All-Father above, I think you're right. I've wasted so much time all these years." Thor seemed to have experienced a profound enlightenment.
A spark of awakening flashed in his eyes.
"Heimdall, open the Bifrost! I must return to Asgard and reclaim my duties as Crown Prince!" The God of Thunder raised Mjolnir to the sky and shouted.
The supernatural power of this world was still strong. Ian had indeed tested it. Amidst the surging energy fluctuations, a low, ancient humming sound continuously rang out.
Like the roar of an engine.
Then, a fissure opened in the sky—not a tear in the clouds, but a rift in reality itself. A dazzling beam of light descended directly from the firmament.
The Bifrost's transport arrived with a roar.
"Rumble!"
Where the beam of light landed, the ground was instantly plated with a faint golden glow. The stone pavement trembled and cracked, seemingly unable to withstand the pressure from the center of the Nine Realms.
"Thank you for your guidance. Goodbye, and feel free to visit me." Thor's golden hair whipped around. He sincerely thanked Ian. Taking one step forward, he was immediately carried by the light beam and soared up. With a loud noise, the light beam contracted, finally turning into a gentle golden ripple that carried Thor away.
In the blink of an eye.
Only Ian was left in the backyard with the roasted octopus.
"Impressive." Ian looked down at the ground beneath his feet and saw that a shallow scorch mark remained, shaped like a perfect circle.
It looked like a mark left by some ancient ritual.
"So, the supernatural powers are still strong, but they just have no use?" Ian obtained the information he wanted. He also felt that he had truly corrected Thor's life trajectory.
Being a King.
Being a Crown Prince.
And not enjoying life?
He might as well find a place to grow sweet potatoes. At least by choosing enjoyment, he gets to have fun and won't be considered a tyrant. At worst, he'd only be considered an incompetent monarch.
What was this called?
It was definitely a sovereign art that ensured a stable baseline!
"My knowledge base is just too comprehensive." Ian was happy after doing a good deed. He found a few takeout containers, collected some roasted octopus, and planned to go find his other disciple.
However.
"Rumble!"
Ian had just started walking toward the front hall.
The roar of the Bifrost sounded again in the backyard.
Behold.
The familiar thunder light surged once more.
It was the landing of the God of Thunder.
With a muffled thud.
The Bifrost spat Thor out like a watermelon seed. The Prince of Asgard was now bruised and swollen, looking exactly like a golden retriever thrown into a tumble dryer.
"Splat!"
A sound of pain echoed throughout the backyard. The God of Thunder looked truly miserable. He was heavily tossed onto the ground, bruised and swollen. This was the face of someone who had genuinely been beaten.
Ian hadn't experienced it.
But that didn't mean he couldn't recognize it.
"Teacher, my All-Father, he beat me up and told me to get back to Earth and open my restaurant. It's clear that his aptitude is inferior to mine. He can't grasp your world-shattering truth."
"He actually hit my face with Gungnir! This handsome face, which only cost me three hundred gold coins to get on the magazine cover!" Thor looked like he was about to cry.
He immediately sprawled on the ground and hugged Ian's leg.
It was like coming home after a beating, his rebellious streak was completely beaten out of him.
"..."
Ian hadn't expected to encounter this day. He, the famous founder of the [Intertwining Connections] skill, was actually sneak-attacked by Thor, the God of Thunder, and called a teacher.
He was less than fifteen years old.
And was actually clung to by a greasy older man!
"It looks like what goes around comes around." Ian was filled with melancholy. However, he possessed Super-Intelligence, and the skill's founder naturally knew how to adopt countermeasures.
At least he had to make sure he didn't lose out.
"With one word, 'Teacher,' I already sense your enlightenment. However, if you wish to receive further instruction from me, you must join my church."
Ian pulled his [Groin Guard] from his pants.
Which was the Demonic Grimoire.
"Sign your name here, and then, according to this prayer, praise the great, cosmically ultimate, invincible, final adjudicator, Emperor of Ten Thousand Laws, God Ian." He attempted to trick the God of Thunder into chanting his true name and joining his faith.
To this.
As the Crown Prince of Asgard, the God of Thunder still had some basic wariness.
"This isn't a proper church, is it?" He didn't fall for it. Instead, relying on the knowledge he'd learned since childhood, he noticed something odd about the [Genesis Grimoire] Ian had pulled out.
Of course.
It was limited to just noticing something odd.
"This is an Evil God's church," Ian used a term that was unfamiliar to Thor, the God of Thunder. The thousands-of-years-old man had only heard the term "Evil God" in his mother's stories.
"You're the head of this church?"
Thor was slightly afraid.
"No, I am not the head of the church. I am the Evil God."
Ian seriously corrected him.
The air froze for three seconds.
"No, are you serious? Who would call themselves an Evil God? You're clearly the Sun God!" Thor didn't know how many times he had been inexplicably shocked today.
"An Evil God who likes to play with the sun, why can't he be an Evil God? Playing with the sun, don't you think that sounds very sinister?" Ian insisted on his remaining honesty.
He knew that honesty was the most important thing for proselytizing.
"..."
Thor fell into a long silence.
"No, as the Crown Prince of Asgard, the future All-Father, how could I worship another God?" He genuinely seemed to be seriously considering Ian's suggestion.
After all, Ian had saved his life.
That sense of camaraderie still existed in this new version of the God of Thunder.
"I can create new spells that include ten thousand recipes. They will not only make your food delicious but also make it glow. You can make it glow whatever color you want."
Ian attempted to demonstrate his persuasive power to the God of Thunder.
It was effective.
"What an Evil God's deception! Just like in my mother's stories... It shakes the heart of a God!" Thor seemed to have been hit where it hurt most, and he looked flustered and greatly alarmed.
"Fine, I surrender. I'll join your Evil God's church. But this isn't because my willpower isn't strong enough. It's because I need to thoroughly infuriate my useless All-Father!"
Thor was perhaps the truly devoted son.
The moment his voice fell.
Before he could even negotiate with Ian or set any terms for an easy withdrawal, his soul suddenly felt a kind of constraint.
Like being squeezed by an invisible hand.
It was like the crushing of the sky, like the imposition of an iron law.
This was not a conversion of faith, nor a submission of spirit, but a more fundamental, irreversible connection. A brand slowly formed deep within his soul.
Carrying an irresistible authority and absurdity.
"What's going on? Why did we suddenly form a soul contract!" Everything happened too quickly for the God of Thunder to react.
Completely caught off guard.
He found himself having become Ian's follower.
"I don't know either."
Ian's statement was also the truth.
"Wait, this contract is wrong! Oh my God!" Thor was also greatly shocked after carefully examining it. His future, accumulated divine power would have to contribute thirty percent to the boy opposite him?
"Is this what an Evil God is like?"
Thor was profoundly shocked.
Far more terrifying than the fictional Evil Gods depicted in his mother's stories.
His voice was trembling.
"Mhm, this is what Evil Gods are like," Ian was increasingly satisfied with his path as a Dimensional Demon God. He patiently explained, even though he hadn't figured out what kind of Dimensional Demon God he was.
Nor what kind of authority he possessed.
"Fortunately, I can still unilaterally tear up the contract... Hiss, it requires half of my divine power?" Thor felt the contents of the contract and immediately gasped.
His power would regress by a thousand years?
What kind of cosmic joke was that!
The content Ian showed him earlier didn't have this!
"This is what Evil Gods are like."
Ian felt Thor's shock and began a patient explanation. He knew that the people of this world, because of their sudden birth, didn't have a very standard concept of an Evil God.
"Where do you even come from?"
Thor looked more distraught than when he had been beaten by his own father.
"I come from the Justice League."
Ian still couldn't forget that his father didn't call him for the team-up. He decided to preemptively join the Justice League and figure out the relevant procedures later.
"..."
Thor fell silent.
Just the name itself.
Felt like an organization used by an Evil God to disguise himself.
"I won the gamble again."
Ian looked up at the sky. All-Father Odin did not descend. The risk, overall, was fruitful. This move directly awakened his [Leader] class.
[You have gained a massive amount of [Leader] experience.]
[Leader class has leveled up.]
[Leader class has leveled up.]
...
[Leader LV5 [13/160]]
Yes.
It went directly to Level Five.
Far exceeding Ian's prediction. He had assumed one follower only counted for one experience point. He hadn't expected Thor to bring him several hundred points of [Leader] experience.
The reward from a high-quality believer was indeed generous enough.
Although the upgrade of a common class wouldn't enhance physical fitness, the [Leader] common class still brought Ian one skill reward upon reaching Level Five.
[Share: Can temporarily lend your power to followers for their use. The power can be recalled at any time. Each time a follower uses your power, they must pay a certain price.]
Such an unassuming-looking skill hung on Ian's general skill bar, forming a 'Big Three' posture alongside his Defense Techniques and [Learning].
"Isn't this a form of Trinity?"
Ian was very happy. Looking at Thor, whose happiness had clearly been absorbed by him, he said cheerfully, "You can continue to call me Teacher. I love that title and don't like to put on airs."
"Only proper Gods like to put on airs." Ian was perhaps getting into his role very quickly. "Now, I can first teach you a supreme storage magic."
He also knew that he should give Thor some benefits to soothe his emotions at this time.
"Don't teach me magic yet. I need a moment," Thor slumped onto the ground. His 450 pounds made the floor tremble, and he still looked as aggrieved as a child.
"Asgardian physique is truly amazing. I can feel my magical power steadily increasing." Ian wasn't being provocative, he was genuinely complimenting him from the bottom of his heart.
"..."
Thor's expression became even more aggrieved.
"That's the magic tax I'm paying you. We Asgardians constantly grow stronger as long as we're alive." He now realized that he might lose thirty percent of his divine power for the rest of his life. No wonder his mother told him to be a shut-in God at home. The outside world was truly terrifying!
"Trust me, it's worth it."
Ian had already discovered that he could even share his class abilities with his followers. He was naturally very confident in his class skills, and the high usage fees he could charge were part of his worth.
"Even so, I still need to recover first," Thor mumbled, continuing to eat wildly, as if trying to fill his inner trauma with food.
Seeing this.
Ian's high emotional intelligence began to work.
"I'm going to see my other follower. Pray if you need anything." He knew he should leave at this time to give Thor, the God of Thunder, some time to digest this 'good fortune.'
"There's another unlucky person?"
Thor suddenly looked up, sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth.
"How many followers do you have?"
His tone carried a hint of testing.
Since he was in an Evil God's church.
He had to check the future prospects, right?
Thor wasn't asking for anything else. He only hoped that the number of followers reached half of Asgard's population. In that case, when he returned and was stripped of his Crown Prince status, he could at least claim it was for freedom.
"Including you, two in total."
Ian was honest when he was acting as an Evil God.
"..."
Thor looked at Ian's retreating figure, his expression gradually shifting from shock to utter confusion. This was more than just a bleak future. He felt he might never be able to return to Asgard in this lifetime.
He'd be laughed to death.
[Higher than the stars.]
[More ancient than the cosmos.]
[The Emperor of Ten Thousand Laws, God Ian, who wields the authority of secrets.]
[You are the weaver of magic.]
[You are the witness of history, the ultimate interpreter of the Marvel Codex. Order and chaos interweave in your hands...] Thor mumbled the ten-thousand-word prayer that appeared in his mind. He began to comfort himself, thinking that he could at least learn the art of boasting from Ian. Was that also a genuine skill?
"He can lift my hammer, he must at least have the potential to be a leader." Thor looked at Mjolnir resting nearby. He entered a mode of frantic self-comfort.
He ate heartily.
Clearly heading towards the physique of a five-hundred-pound giant. At the same time, in the Asgardian Royal Court, an ancient King sat upon the Golden Throne.
Gungnir, the Spear of Eternity, leaned against the throne. A few strands of explosion-style hair still clung to the spear tip. The one-eyed Odin's gaze seemed able to pierce the Nine Realms and reach any location.
Odin witnessed everything.
But he did not intervene.
He simply sighed silently as he looked at his obese son.
"Fools have their fortune, I suppose."
Slowly withdrawing his attention, Odin remained silent for a long time, eventually sighing softly. His murmur was almost inaudible, seemingly unheard by anyone in the palace, which was currently filled with song and dance—golden goblets clinking, music flowing softly. The Gods were drinking, singing, and dancing, the sound of merriment like a tide.
It looked like it would remain this way forever.
Well.
It only looked that way.
...
The sun was high in the sky.
The weather was bright.
Just like Ian's joyous mood. The door of the Sanctum Sanctorum was kicked open by Ian. The air was filled with a faint scent of sandalwood and residual magical energy fluctuations.
"Surprise! My loyal follower, come quickly and see what specialty your God has brought you." Before Ian could finish his sentence, his voice abruptly ceased.
Behold.
In the center of the hall.
Doctor Strange was sitting cross-legged, surrounded by golden magical runes. His face was as pale as paper, his forehead covered in cold sweat, and the red Cloak of Levitation drooped listlessly over his shoulders.
He looked as if he had just endured the pain of a soul stripping.
He was indeed seemingly tearing his soul apart, as what he was doing was "severing ties" with Ian, forcefully giving up half of his magic to tear up the contract with Ian.
"What are you doing?!"
Ian's eyes widened.
He suddenly felt the magical power inside him surge again.
From a small well.
It had turned into at least fifty or sixty small wells.
"Clatter!"
After the contract was terminated.
Doctor Strange fell from mid-air.
He weakly raised his head, looking at the Evil God before him, his eyes unusually firm. "I, the Sorcerer Supreme, absolutely refuse to associate with a demon like you who has survived from ancient times!"
His voice, though equally weak and powerless.
Was resounding.
Carrying a powerful conviction.
"Uh..."
Ian felt a sense of admiration for Doctor Strange's unyielding spirit.
He had finally seen someone with a true superhero spirit in the Marvel universe. As for tearing up the contract, Ian, who realized he hadn't lost any experience, certainly wasn't angry.
As an Evil God.
He always granted his followers the right to choose whether to stay or leave.
This was not nobility.
But the basic quality of a new-era Evil God.
"If you are willing to let me recuperate for a while before we have our final battle, then..." Doctor Strange was completely weak, failing to get up from the floor several times.
"You're still so good at negotiating. This is the Doctor Strange I'm familiar with." Ian thoughtfully stepped forward to help him up, but he didn't hear what condition Doctor Strange wanted to negotiate.
The reason was simple.
Doctor Strange had crashed.
It wasn't because of Ian's easygoing nature.
"No! How could this happen!" Doctor Strange's expression was unnaturally stiff. He pushed Ian away and stumbled back a few steps, collapsing against the wall.
"Why do I have to pay you more magic after giving up the contract?!" He was truly shocked, his trembling voice filled with disbelief—even though the contract was severed, the constraint seemed to linger, causing forty percent of the magic Doctor Strange cultivated in the future to flow to Ian.
This was an increase, not a decrease!
The previous magic income tax only required a thirty percent contribution!
"A young Evil God needs child support; that's just how it is," Ian's explanation was as patient as ever. His one sentence plunged the entire Sanctum Sanctorum into silence.
"There was no such clause before!" Doctor Strange's face turned from green to pale. Finally, he gritted his teeth and questioned him angrily, his voice barely squeezed out from between them.
"This clause was just added five minutes ago. You were probably busy breaking the contract and didn't notice." Ian lifted his shirt, revealing the Genesis Grimoire tucked into his waistband.
"..."
Silence, still silence.
"This shouldn't be the result."
Doctor Strange's cheek muscles trembled, his jaw clenched into two ridges, looking as if he had two walnuts in his mouth. His fingers tightly gripped the edge of the Cloak of Levitation, his knuckles white, his lips pressed into a thin line—the Sorcerer Supreme, who prided himself on having the cunning of Sherlock Holmes, was now using all his self-control to keep from crying.
"To be honest, I admire your integrity. This is the superhero I'm familiar with." Ian offered the gift in his hand. The scent of roasted octopus wafted through the air.
However.
Doctor Strange did not reach out to take it.
"Don't, don't admire me yet. You're admiring me too soon... Give me a chance, I want to re-enlist. I was actually secretly deceived by another demon before."
Doctor Strange put on a sincere expression. His Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty. Caught between his dignity and the loss of magic, he chose to trust his mathematics.
The difference between thirty percent and forty percent.
He was very clear about the numbers.
After all, he loved reading the Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories.
"What demon? Where did this other demon come from?"
Ian was surprised.
He always tended to believe others.
However.
Doctor Strange's "Sherlock Holmes" mind seemed reluctant to let him believe.
"It was just a demon... a very scary-looking demon, uh... with big wings on its back and a very arrogant laugh." Humans are always unable to imagine things they haven't seen.
At this moment.
The value of this statement was proven on Doctor Strange. Since he had not encountered any genuine information in this regard, he could only describe it based on the movies he had seen.
"I believe you."
Ian nodded.
He showed his generosity.
"Come on, of course you can. The Evil God Lord's blanket is always open for followers to come and go as they please." Again, new-era Evil Gods have a few basic qualities.
"Thank you."
Strange squeezed out a word through gritted teeth.
His Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.
Watching Ian pull out the book that should have been the [Subject], the Sorcerer Supreme, who appeared very principled but was actually just reluctant to cultivate power for others, decided to swallow his pride.
"What kind of karma did I accrue? One series of actions... directly cost me half of my magic." With infinite sorrow in his heart, Doctor Strange pressed his new handprint onto the book.
The moment the contract took effect, a familiar constraint began to sprout within him again—the magic income tax had indeed returned to thirty percent.
However.
He didn't even have time to let out a sigh of relief.
"No!" Doctor Strange immediately turned into a groundhog again, freezing up as if struck by lightning, and once again let out an incredible gasp of surprise.
"The other content of this contract... why is it different from the last one!" Doctor Strange stiffly looked at the smiling Ian, his eyes transitioning from horror and shock to numbness.
"Is this what Evil Gods are like?"
He felt he had already guessed what Ian was going to say.
However.
"It's actually like a second marriage versus a first marriage. Do you think there wouldn't be a difference?" Ian patted Doctor Strange's stiff shoulder reassuringly. His tone was light yet self-righteous.
"..."
Doctor Strange opened his mouth.
But ultimately couldn't find the words to refute.
Perhaps Ian's fallacies were too impregnable. The genius who loved Sherlock Holmes since childhood, went on to study advanced medicine, and eventually became the Sorcerer Supreme, found it hard to resist.
"So, demons are truly this terrifying."
He could only mutter weakly, his expression blank and listless.
"I saw you bought a lot of Sherlock Holmes magnifying glasses. You'll encounter this situation if you don't use a magnifying glass to read the contract." Ian attempted to teach his follower how to guard against demons, but his good intentions did not earn him the other party's gratitude.
The air grew quieter.
Doctor Strange's labored breathing gradually intensified.
It was becoming increasingly similar to Uncle Bruce, who had overdosed on the drug.
***
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